


If the Shoe Fits

by B_does_the_write_thing



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon, F/M, Storybrooke, a girls best friend is her shoes, and a little sex doesn't hurt either., and wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_does_the_write_thing/pseuds/B_does_the_write_thing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's finally springtime and Belle can wear her heels again; Rumple sure missed them. Or did he…?</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Shoe Fits

**Author's Note:**

> Anon Prompt.

Winter had finally thawed and the first hints of spring were beginning to make themselves known. Gold did not bother to look up from his work to know his wife had just snuck into the back of the shop. He threw a welcoming smile over his shoulder before she could sneak up on him any further. He had surprised her in the shower this morning and while it had ended well enough, Belle had made it clear she was going to return the favor. “Hello sweetheart, could you hand me that medallion?”

More amused than confused, Belle handed him the requested object. “How do you always do that?” she asked as she slid beside him.

Inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, Rumple considered telling her the truth for a brief moment but that would be telling. As his own lips quirked upwards, he simply took the medallion from her grasp, flipping her hand over to press a quick kiss to her palm. “Magic, dearie.”

–

He had just managed to get home from the Charming’s latest family disaster, having been neatly roped in by his Machiavellian grandson. He had been in the usual state between sleep and awake that the Dark One could escape to from time to time when Belle joined him in the bedroom. He didn't bother to open his eyes. “Sweetheart,” he greeted wearily.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” came the guilty response as the bed dipped beside him.

He reached out to take her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “It’s no matter. Come to bed.”

–

Stopping short in his conversation with Whale, Gold turned towards the back room. With a brief wiggle of his forefinger, the curtains shivered slightly before pulling apart. Belle stood sheepishly behind them, one foot rising to brush along the back of her calf.

“Doctor Whale,” she said as her hand waved feebly in greeting.

Whale nodded back, turning back to him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “I should be going,” he said curtly. “We can talk more about this…later.” With a nod towards Belle, the physician quickly exited the shop.

Belle joined Gold at the register, her chest brushing against his arm as she leaned in to him. The welcome warmth of her in the cool New England spring air elicited a murmur of appreciation despite her unfortunate timing. “What did Whale want?” she inquired, flipping through the shop book. He smiled despite himself. Belle had never been stealthy and her casual indifference masked her obvious curiosity.

“A favor,” he admitted before he placed his hand at the small of her back. “Let’s lock up, sweetheart.”

–

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you…”

“How do you do that!“ Belle huffed from the other room. He didn’t bother standing from his desk as she had already backed away from the slightly simmering cauldron.

“Rumple…”

Looking up from the spell book, he found his wife staring at him from the doorway, arms crossed before her. Shaking his head, he looked back down and he tried to find the correct incantation before the potion curdled. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I was hoping you’d be home by now…”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,’” he murmured. He had been fighting a magical headache all day, the price of making potions. “Let me finish this and we’ll go.”

“Alright,” she murmured before she disappeared back into the shop. He winced slightly as he heard her pacing. He attempted to focus but the pain in his head worsened at the minutes ticked on and he closed the tome with a sigh.

As he began to gather his things, his wife stilled in the other room as she listened intently. With a tight smile, he pushed the curtain open and took her arm in his as they exited the store. With a familiar ease despite the short time they actually were able to spend together, Belle leaned in to him for support as she matched her strides to his.

–

“You’ve already read that one.”

Belle dropped the book she had been skimming, spinning to face him with an incredulous expression on her lovely face. “Rumple!” she scolded as her hands rose to her chest. “You startled me!”

“Oh?” he teased as he approached her. Forgetting her ire, Belle raised her arms to drape over his shoulders, leaning down to place her forehead on his. “How beastly of me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Belle whispered against his cheek as her hands slid into his hair. “After all, you’re home early on a weekday.”

“Whatever shall we do, Mrs. Gold?”

“Oh,” came the melodious reply before her lips touched his. “I can come up with something…”

–

Belle frowned at Emma over Granny’s hamburger special. “I just don’t know how he does it,” Belle sighed, dipping ketchup in her fry dejectedly.

Emma helped herself to the house hot sauce. “It’s not a spell,” Emma shrugged. “Regina and I both checked. You are magically free of any transmitting or locator spell.”

Belle let out an aggrieved sigh, propping her head upon her hand as she gazed down at her plate. “I thought it was my perfume but I stopped wearing it for a week and he still caught me red handed.”

Ruby collapsed into the open seat beside her without warning. She tucked her notepad and pen back into her pocket as she kept a wary out for her grandmother to come out of the kitchen. “Why are you sneaking around anyways?” Ruby asked. 

“Rumple is up to something,” Belle told her. She felt guilty admitting it, knowing full well that few people trusted her husband but it she found she couldn't keep it to herself for a moment longer. “Every time I try to find out what, he catches me. He caught me in his study last night even though I left him half asleep in the foyer watching one of those old war movies he likes so much.”

“Magic?” Ruby asked Emma as the waitress helped herself to one of the Savior’s onion rings.

Emma batted Ruby's hand away but not before Ruby snagged one. “Nope,” she  confirmed. “Belle is magic free. Whatever Gold is up to, he’s doing it without the help of magic.”

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Ruby prompted through a mouthful of onion ring. Belle opened her mouth to respond before snapping it shut. Noticing her hesitation, Ruby looked over at her half filled milkshake. “Are you going to finish that?”

Belle didn’t respond, she just nudged it over. Emma caught a glimpse of Belle's downcast face and elbowed Ruby. "How about a quick pick me up at the Rabbit Hole?" she suggested. "My treat." 

–

“Rumplestitlskin!”

It was never a good sign when Belle said his entire name. So, it was with a heavy heart that he opened the door to his study to find his wife standing before him, hair slightly damp and tousled from the spring shower outside. “Sweetheart,” he started as his hand went to push her hair from her face. She caught in her own, pressing it to her chest. “What’s the matter?”

“What are you hiding from me?” she blurted, lib wobbling.

He felt a slight kick of panic in his stomach but he tried to quell it with sheer will. “Nothing, Belle,” he assured her, using his free hand to cup her cheek and wipe away the tear that was starting to roll down her lovely face.

“Don’t lie to me,” she hiccuped. There was the slightest hint of wine on her breath.

He looked at her in amused disbelief, tilting her chin down with the pad of his thumb. “How is Ruby these days?”

She frowned at him, dropping his hand to swat at him. “Don’t change the subject,” she chastised him, even as she nestled in to him.

As he put his arms around her, he had to rise up slightly on his toes to comfortably fit her against him. “You’re right,” he apologized, rubbing her back in small circles. “It’s really nothing, sweetheart.”

She pushed back slightly, frowning down at him with slightly blurry eyes. “Tell me,” she insisted, steeling herself for further argument.

Something in the way she was holding herself, afraid and yet determined to face the unknown told him further denial would only hurt her further. With a soft press of his lips on hers, he confessed. “After this whole business with the Snow Queen and Elsa’s parlor tricks, I rather got used to you in those boots of yours.” Belle face furrowed in consternation as he continued. “ With the spring thaw, you retuned to those contraptions you seem so fond of-“

“My heels?” Belle interrupted, popping her foot up behind her and twisting to look down at it. Her face fell as she turned back to him with a look of betrayal on her features. “You don’t like my heels?”

“It doesn’t matter if I like them, sweetheart,” he insisted. “I love that you love them.”

“But…?”

“But,” he agreed. “I grew rather fond of you fitting perfectly beneath my chin when I held you and the way your eyes shine when you look up from underneath your lashes. Plus, all your favorite platforms sound like clomping elephants and your stilettos click-clacking across the shop floor drive a tiny spike into my eardrum. I can’t bide the way your feet pain you by the end of the day and I constantly worry you’ll fall and twist your ankles one of these days-“

Rumple didn’t get to finish his tirade against her footwear because his wife had pressed her mouth to his in a hungry kiss, opening her mouth to him as she showed him just what she thought of his honesty. He made a mental note to be more forthcoming as he heard her shoes being kicked off, catching her in his arms as she slid down his front.

In all honesty, he thought blissfully as she slid her hands to unbuckle his belt, at least this way she hadn’t found out about his real secret- after all, he had been planning their honeymoon surprise trip around the world for weeks with Whale’s forced assistance.

–

Later, as they lay on the study floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, Belle traced patterns on his chest as he dozed beneath her.

“Rumple,” she whispered, still breathy from her release. “Do you hate all my shoes?”

When no answer returned from the sleeping man below her, Belle lapsed into silence as she thought out a plan. Perhaps Emma would be amenable to creating a silencing spell.

After all, despite her unconditional love for her husband, Belle really did love her shoes…


End file.
